


House of Worship

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blasphemy, Church Sex, F/M, Godstiel - Freeform, Oral Sex, PWP, Queen of Hell Meg, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 03:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11958672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Meg knows exactly how to please her new God.





	House of Worship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mouse9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for my friend Heather. I hope you enjoy it!

The people crowded the small church’s door, pushing each other as they tried to squeeze through. Their squeals of terror filled the air, like those of lambs before the slaughter, and suddenly they didn’t care about the neighbors and family with whom they had been sitting so peacefully just moments before. They were nothing but obstacles on their way, preventing them from escaping from the holy horror of what they had just seen.

Meg thought this was hilarious. They were so busy trying to flee none of them noticed her sitting in the last row, watching them with a mocking smirk and eyes as black as a starless night. If one of them had turned to her, even for a second, she would have shown them a glimpse of her true face, jut to exacerbate their terror. Just to give them a glimpse of what was coming for them.

The last of the congregation pushed through and the doors closed with a loud bump.

“You can’t have their souls.” His voice boomed in the empty building. “The hate in their hearts is misguided, but it’s not their fault. It was put there by a hypocrite and their effects soon will vanish like smoke in the air. If they repent, if they recognize the truth in my words, they’ll be saved.”

Meg clicked her tongue and turned towards him.

“You’re no fun,” she complained.

Castiel tilted his head ever so slightly, as if he didn’t understand Meg’s jab.

“Torturing the souls of the wicked isn’t supposed to be ‘fun’,” he replied. “It’s your job.”

“No reason it can’t be both.”

She stood and in three confident strides, she was right in front of him, looking up at his blank face with the same smirk as before.

Meg had known him before and after he became something a little more than an angel. The difference in his demeanor and the way he spoke was subtle, but it was there. Before, he had stood with his shoulders rigid and his eyes scanning the room, like a soldier ready for a fight that sometimes came and sometimes didn’t. Now he stood with the same rigidity, but there was more fluidity to his gestures, more weight to his words. It was as if he was aware of the grandiosity that being the Lord of all creation needed and he had adjusted his behavior to match that of a king. No, of a God.

One thing hadn’t changed though and Meg was acutely aware of it: both versions of him were perfectly able to smite her with a touch. One of them had tried and then left her to burn in one occasion. She remembered the pain and the heat of the flames licking at her body, the humiliation she felt when his foot stepped on her. She had learned to respect the angel that day.

She had learned to lust after him too.

She stretched her hand and place it softly on his cheek.

“You didn’t make me come all the way over here just to show me how you terrorized some pathetic morons, did you?” she asked, crooking an eyebrow at him.

“No.” He turned away to look at the homophobic pastor’s body, lying motionless on the tiles of what had been his temple. His face was still read and swollen, his eyes bulging out from the suffocation. He was a grotesque sight, but Meg had definitely seen worse. “You are to take his soul. You will make an example of him. I want everyone, demons, angels and humans, to know what happens when you spread falsehood in my name.”

“So you’re telling me how to do my job now?” Meg chuckled, moving her hand down to his neck, in a long, slow caress. “I thought we’d agreed Hell was mine to rule.”

His hand caught unto her wrist fast and squeezed. Not cruelly, not enough to hurt her. But hard enough to remind her who was in charge there.

“Are you refusing?” he asked.

“Of course not, Lord,” she said, imprinting just the faintest hint of sarcasm in the last word. “I would never refuse one of your orders.”

“Good,” he said. A soft smile appeared on his lips, which Meg had come to learn meant he was pleased. “Don’t ever forget your place, Meg.”

Meg ignored the implicit threat in that phrase and licked her lips.

“Never. I know exactly where my place is: on my knees,” she said and slowly lowered herself to the ground. “Worshipping you.”

His blue eyes glimmered with satisfaction. His fingers reached for her chin, delicately pulling her forwards and she understood exactly what he wanted from her.

This version of him wasn’t just more powerful, oh, no. He was also free of the pesky little doubts and hesitations that had held him back before. As an angel he’d had a code of conduct he believed had been dictated by something mightier than him. Now that he was the mightiest thing in the universe, he was the one who got to decided what was wrong and what was right.

And that included whether or not he fucked his employees. Even if those employees happened to be low level demons that had risen above their station. Meg was aware she was very lucky Castiel had chosen to trust her with Hell instead of Crowley. Though luck hardly had anything to do with it. She had proven herself loyal to him, she had stayed by his side even when the Winchesters, the angels and even Crowley had doubted him.

And she was prettier than any of them. That had to count for something.

She unzipped his slacks and slid a hand inside to find he was already half hard. It only took a few strokes and a couple of kitten licks around the tip to elicit a soft moan from his lips. His hands petted her hair as she took him into her mouth inch by inch.

Meg knew exactly how to please her God.

She let his cock rest on her tongue for a moment before she hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard. This time, his gasp was louder and longer, a guttural, almost primal sound that sent a shiver down her spine and set her insides on fire. She bobbed her head up and down his shaft, reveling in the taste of his skin, on the rough tugging of his hand in her hair…

Sirens broke the silence of the night and distracted her for a second. Humans were coming. She definitely didn’t care if they were caught like this, but she didn’t think Castiel would appreciate having to kill them unnecessarily.

He pulled her hair once more, making her look up to him. His eyes were so dilated with pleasure, there was almost no shade of blue in them.

“They won’t interrupt us,” he said.

Meg didn’t have time to make a cheeky comment about it. She blinked and suddenly she found herself standing by the altar, Castiel’s tall presence looming behind her.

“Look at it,” he said, pointing at the big wooden cross that occupied the wall in front of them. “That symbolizes a rule of something that is no more. The world has started a new era.”

His hand travelled up under Meg’s shirt and cupped her breast. Meg shuddered and planted her hands open over the table covered in the immaculate white cloth. If she had her way, she would've desecrated it by slaughtering someone on it, letting the blood run dry to let them know there was a new management in place, both in Heaven and in Hell.

But this would have to do, she thought as Castiel unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down unceremoniously. She couldn’t spread out as much as she would’ve liked, but she made up for it by bending over as far as the distance between the table and Castiel’s body allowed her to.

If anyone saw her like this, the Queen of Hell, offering herself up so shamelessly, she would’ve lost whatever respect she’d managed to gather. But then again, she wouldn’t care to explain it. She wouldn’t be able to explain it: the electricity that emanated from his fingertips, the hotness of his mouth against his neck, the faint glow underneath his skin that revealed there was more to him than met the eye. No one could understand the rush in her blood, the intensity in which all of his concentration, the concentration of a being with the ability to do and undo at will, focused on her for those moments they shared together.

All of this power… it was better than any aphrodisiac she’d ever known, as a human or as a demon.

Castiel shove into her with abandon, gripping her hips so tightly it bruised her skin. Any mark he left on her wouldn’t heal as easily and Meg would wear them with pride. A reminder of who she belonged to. Of who she worshipped. He filled her up exquisitely and then pulled out almost all the way, leaving her hanging and gasping for just a fraction of a second before he pushed back into her in rapid, careless movements.

Meg was faintly aware of the pounds on the door and the loud voices demanding to be let inside, and she almost laughed. Those doors wouldn’t open until Castiel was done with her and he wouldn’t be done with her until every muscle of her stole body was aching, until her very essence felt exhausted from having been in contact with something so bright and so powerful. She arched her head back and let the pleasure rip a sob from her throat. He replied with an even louder moan, fucking her over and over until every inch of her felt invaded, taken over by him.

His thrusting became faster and frantic as the voices and sirens outside grew in volume. The pleasure built up in Meg’s body, from her cunt to her lower stomach, moving up his chest and down her knees, messing up with her balance. But he wouldn’t let her fall. She gripped unto the table so tight the wood broke down and screamed out her orgasm so loud she was sure the stupid humans outside could hear her. The church’s light bulbs sparkled and shattered. Thunder boomed over their heads. Or maybe that was the beating of Meg’s own heart drowning out everything else.

His cum and her juices made a mess inside of her pussy, but he didn’t care as she pulled her jeans up and left another possessive kiss in her neck. He turned her around and held her up against his chest because Meg’s legs were trembling and barely able to hold her up. She looked up at him, his messed up hair, his lips parted as if he was still aroused despite having just finished inside of her.

“And how… how does this fit in your new world order?” Meg asked, between gasped that nullified the amusement in her tone.

“You have a purpose for me, Meg, that goes beyond your duty to punish the wicked,” Castiel replied, leaning over to leave a kiss at the edge of her lips. “You will see soon enough.”

Meg didn’t have time to really reflect on those words. Her eyes focused on a patch of skin right underneath his hairline. He had a red scratch there or… a crack.

“Hey,” she muttered, raising her hand to run her fingers through it. “What’s that?”

Castiel frowned, confused at her question.

There was another pound on the door and this time they burst open. Police and paramedics came rushing in, but all they found was the strange smell of ozone and sulfur floating in the air, a splintered altar and the body of the pastor lying on the floor with its eyes open and its mouth twisted in a grimace of pain.


End file.
